


Shadow Hat

by PlaceHolderWhoopWhoop



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaceHolderWhoopWhoop/pseuds/PlaceHolderWhoopWhoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a hard day at work for fedorafreak. Can Dad comfort him in any.... special ways? (Yes. Yes he can.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow Hat

Shadow Hat  


It was a long, sweaty work day for fedorafreak. What he did was a mystery to Dad Egbert, but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered to him was fixing the man a hearty dinner. That is what he had been doing for the past couple weeks after fedorafreak’s house was hit by a meteor and his family killed. The mourning period was long past, but his house remained unbuilt; something that ought to be fixed some time in the near future- or not, Dad hoped from the bottom of his heart.  
fedorafreak stepped in the doorway. His family dead, but more pressingly, his dinner cooked. What a cake that was that he laid his eyes upon. He had never seen such a cake as this. Dad was always a great baker. A great baker of both goods and of service. What services are those, might one ask?  
This scenery was far too pressing for Dad to handle. The two were pressed against each other tightly as Dad removed the clothes off of fedorafreak. After that fatal meteor crash, his family of clothes was destroyed; his only matching set lie on his own back. Thus every night, after those long, sweaty, tiring work day, he had to wash that same set every day. Because what was a man if not a good washer? Not a man, mind you. Even his undergarmets had to be removed; his sweatiness was a gruesome sight and these clothes had to be taken off posthaste.  
Finally, they were all gone, and fedorafreak was able to enjoy his dinner. He took his hand and stuck the sucker right into that cake. He squeezed tight as Dad watched him take a chunk of this delicacy and put it into his mouth. Each morsel, scrumptious; Each bite dripping off of his oily, sweaty, gunk-ridden hand, falling onto a tounge that savored each and every iota of this wounderous experience.  
Dad could not hold back. his undergarmets had to be washed as well. And with that, they were off. And so were they as in the two of them. fedorafreak splashed cake across the hairy chest of Dad. That would have to be cleaned up some time in the near future, something that fedorafreak did. He took his tounge, already satisfied enough by the delightful concoction that was Dad’s desert, began to rivet down the spine of Dad. Ooh. Ahh. Finally, he reached the magical point. Dad’s backside ached with intense pleasure as the extension of fedorafreak’s mouth entered Dad’s area and began to squirm. It was time for a bath- but not a bath of water. A bath of passion.  
And what a passion it was. Dad had never tried this out with John before, so there was no telling how he would feel about it. But fedorafreak had to attempt it. It was something that revolutionized Dad’s current feeling. It was 1776 as ooze began to form on his anterior side, something that was bound to happen soon enough, but something that was becoming accelerated at this moment until finally; it was 2011. Egyptian circumstance carried the spirits of the two away for a full 30 seconds. It was over.  
John watched as this event played out. It taught him new techniques that he would soon use, and would soon master as well. Not a day went by that he didn’t dream of finding a suitable partner to experiment his findings on. That is what love was. It was an ectobiology lab, and the scientific method was the power of the moment. Alas, not a soul he had met was worthy of such an honorific achievement as to be the target of John’s eyes. No, not one. Except for a singular one.  
After such a scene, it was quite necessary for the two men to wash up. Proper hygiene was the maxim of the household, and became the statement with which fedorafreak ran his life- besides those hardened, grueling, beads of sweat-creating hours of work that he endured each and every day. The bath had been running for a few minutes when both decided to step in, the liquid inundating both of their skins. A feeling of warmth and joy were the norm in this bathroom, something slightly odd in a room suited normally for the removal of fecal waste from the bowels of a man after the digestion of a cake.  
The hair follicles of this gorgeous man just had to be washed. No, this was not the man who had a head of hair, or the underarms of hair, or the chest of hair. This was the man attatched to that man. The man that Dad was so eager to investigate. His hair was different from the other man’s; it was curly- not as soft and bouncy. Something that fedorafreak would have to reconcile for, as his partner would need a firm lathering, or at least recieve a healthy haircut from Dad. The former option was chosen, as Dad soaked the hair in lotion. Why not shampoo? The taste of shampoo, Dad had figured, was not as close to that of cake as the nearby lotion. fedorafreak farted, twelve bubbles rising from the water, making their escape known to the world as they released into the nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere and released their bacteria, giving a scent to everywhere nearby. It was sexy.  
The third man in this conversation of cleanliness began to arise, bringing attention to himself as the lotion began to affect him. Dad fell to his temptations and began to feel madly for this man, his emotions rising equally. He placed his lips upon him and kissed. Tounge was a body part used prevalently by Dad, though it was not returned by the latter of the two, as he lacked one. What he lacked in organs, he made up for in his nectar; his plasma; his treasure of a thousand subservients. He began to give it up to Dad, his love ever growing for the man that washed his hair, until he burst with joy. He could not talk, but he sure could spit. And spit he did.  
All the while, fedorafreak felt the pangs of jealousy between these two men. Moments earlier, his attention was whose Dad was most interested in. Now it was not. fedorafreak reached his hand into the sink and grabbed a few items of hygenie. He began to shave. There was more than enough barbasol that he could potentially cause an explosion, in fact, one that would distract Dad from his newfound lover, but fedorafreak knew that his current activity would be the one that would gain him back. And he was right, because Dad looked up and stuck out his tounge, formerly being used on the other man, beginning to catch the falling hairs from fedorafreak’s face. They were better than any cake that Dad had ever baked, or any service given. They were a treat that could not be explained; only beheld. The third man had ceased in his activities- this was the final act of the night for all parties involved, and it was by far the climax.  
The next day, fedorafreak’s house was rebuilt and he moved back.  
Choose your ending:  
Red: fedorafreak’s house gets hit by another meteor and kills him. Dad has sex with his dead body all the time.  
Green: fedorafreak and Dad merge into one. This new being has sex with himself all the time.  
Blue: Dad mind controls fedorafreak and makes him stay. They have sex all the time.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe you just read this entire thing. Good job. I hope your day isn't too fucked.


End file.
